


Of Coins and Red Setters

by majesticlolipop



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-05 14:58:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6709567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticlolipop/pseuds/majesticlolipop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this is a request I did for MizJoely AGES ago that I originally posted on tumblr. It's been doing the rounds on tumblr now so I thought I might post it here too! The prompt was: </p>
<p>"BITTER SOULMATE PROMPTS (because the world needs more salt && complications. feel free to change up the context or pronouns!) ❛❛ So, you’re the unfortunate soul stuck with me.❜❜ (Sherlolly of course!)</p>
<p>Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MizJoely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/gifts).



> Sherlolly soulmate one shot! Enjoy! Not Beta'd
> 
> Molly and Sherlock have never met. When you turn sixteen, an image of a specific important memory that only your soulmate would know about appears somewhere on your body. 
> 
> There is an anonymous website for people to search different marks to try and find their soulmate, and thus this is what led Sherlock and Molly together (through Mycrofts meddling of course).

Sherlock sighed dramatically as he stood in front of the University of Glasgow, before taking another long drag from his cigarette as Mycroft’s voice rang through his head.  _‘You’ll be surprised, Sherlock. I know neither of us are fond of showing our sentimental side but …these things happen for a reason. You can pretend that you don’t have a soulmate but a mark appeared on your arm, whether you like it or not. Just go. I think they won’t be who you’re expecting.’_

“Fat chance.” Sherlock muttered as he extinguished his cigarette under his shoe, sighing again before trudging through the extensive University. He walked and walked, not bothered by all the staff trying to talk to him, and walked straight to the Pathology department. He wasn’t really expecting much, perhaps a cranky old woman who wears too much makeup, or a man who let himself go and drinks every night at the pub. “Oh  _boring_..” he said and shook his head as he walked, looking at the office doors, looking for the doctor who taught pathology. 

_Why couldn’t it had been John. That would be so much easier, none of this going around, looking for someone who will bore me to an early grave. Perhaps they’ll have to do my autopsy._

‘Doctor Molly Hooper. Head of Pathology.’ read a plaque on a door covered in brightly coloured pictures, with slogans like ‘Always here to help’, ‘Come on in!’ and such.

_Oh god, one has a cat and a rainbow on it. This is much more dire then I expected._

The detective took a deep breath and ruffled his curls, knowing he had to face this day someday. Better not delay the inevitable. He took hold of the door handle and stormed through into the office, walking straight to the woman at her desk, not even acknowledging her as he pulled up his shirt sleeve and showed her the mark on his upper arm. “Here, this has to mean something to you apparently.” he said drearily. 

The woman blinked rapidly and cleared her throat, before standing a bit to examine the image etched on his skin. A three pence coin, or how she imagined it in her childhood anyway. She sighed and sat down. “Will you sit, Mr…?” she said, raising an eyebrow at the man. 

“Holmes.” he said and sat down in front of her. “Does this illogical thing mean something to you? I mean only an idiot would believe such a thing existed.” he said as he looked at the things on her table, wanting to keep his composure because for the few seconds he’d seen her, she seemed very enticing. Even in a bloody cat cardigan. 

_Why cats? Why. Why can’t it be dogs._

“Being head of Pathology really does prove your point that I’m an idiot, right?” she said sarcastically and stood up, moving her arm to his face to show him her image. “Oh would you just look.” she tutted at the man who wouldn’t even look at her arm. 

Sherlock begrudgingly turned his attention to the image on her arm, expecting something stupid but his eyes widened at the sight.

_Redbeard._

He swallowed thickly, turning his eyes away. 

_Stupid sentiment._

“So, you’re the unfortunate soul stuck with me.” she said. “You’re not the first.” she mused, shaking her head as she sat down, looking through the files that he’d scattered on the table. Sherlock realised she was putting up a wall, before she spoke again. “Look I can maybe get a coffee with you and we can talk it through but-”

“You were married.” Sherlock deduced, finally letting himself deduce her, his eyes roaming her for information. “You’ve been in several long-term relationships.” 

“I was engaged.” she corrected. “His name was Tom. His mark was a book I used to read when I was younger. He had a setter when he was younger. We thought it was fate.” she said, using air-quotes. “He cheated on me with some blond woman in marketing. They  _are_  actually married now.” she said snarkily, fixing her ponytail. “Look, you’re not the first to claim to be my soulmate. And even though your mark is probably the closest memory for me, I’m afraid I can’t just jump into this.” she said. 

Sherlock sat back and narrowed his eyes at her. “You had a loss in your family.” he said, his fingers under his chin. “Parent? That’s what this mark is about right, a memory with that parent? Father, right?”

“How…” Molly blushed as she looked into the eyes of the man in front of her. “How do you know that?”

“Why three pence?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “How do the two connect?”

“Its a thing my father used to tell me.” she said. “A trick. When you’re having a nightmare, in it, put your hand into your pocket and look at the change. If there is a three pence then you know you’re asleep, because there is no such thing. Logic takes over, and you usually wake up.” she said fondly. “It works. It helped me when I was younger. Dad .. well this will sound corny.. but he told me that when I grew up that I’d find my ‘three pence’, and they would help me through any nightmares.” 

“But they weren’t there for the worst thing in your life. The death of your father.” he said, tilting his head. “Thats why you are so skeptical. Because you’ve had to deal with being on your own for so long and watch men come and go but when it comes to it, you’re always alone.” 

“A lot of people had Irish Setters in their childhoods.” she said simply and smoothed out her skirt, not wanting to admit that everything he said was true. She had had many people claim that they were perfect for each other for it to end in disaster. She had put her trust in too many people, and she wasn't about to trust this man. As much as he intrigued her. 

Brown eyes met blue and she looked at him for a moment. 

“Tea?” 


	2. Tea and Banter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Sherlock have tea, and Sherlock wonders how Molly can affect him so...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah I updated what? I've had some of this written for a while and was planning on updating ages ago but I got sick! For those of you who don't know I've a very disabling illness and it can affect my hands very badly so typing was a no-no for a while! But I updated!
> 
> I'm so overjoyed by the response this has gotten. I'm so sorry I didn't get to reply to all the comments, but each and every one means so much. Thank you for liking this and I'll see you all next chapter! 
> 
> (this is not beta'd)
> 
> *EDIT : I first uploaded this and it didn't have my italics of Sherlock thinking but all fixed now!

 

Sherlock looked up at the woman in front of him for a long moment before just nodding. "Tea would be agreeable, I suppose." He said, his blue eyes keeping a close eye on the woman.

 

"Well, you've caught me at a good time, so I can do tea." She said and stood up. "I'll take you to one of the more quiet coffee shops on campus so we can have a proper chat." She mused and walked over to grab her coat and stripy scarf, that she then proceeded to wrap around her neck, which Sherlock felt his eyes drawn to for some reason. _It is a ridiculous scarf!_ _Stop staring!_

 

He then stood up to join he and cleared his throat, making a vague hand gesture for her to lead the way, which Molly did, walking out of the room, her ponytail swishing behind her. Sherlock noticed a few things when he walked the halls and grounds with the pathology professor by his side. Everyone seemed to love her. They smiled and chatted, always met with a kind smile in return. And anyone who had met him earlier in a more... disagreeable fashion did a double take as to why their sweet professor was walking around with him.

 

The 'soulmates' were soon sat down at the coffee shop, Molly nursing a peppermint tea while Sherlock opted for a basic black coffee, his eyes still roaming the woman for any and all information, which made Molly feel a bit naked. She coughed and looked at him.

 

"So what do you do?" She asked, wanting to do something to take him out of his stupor, her skin feeling like it was being frozen by the icy stare. The question worked, and she found herself looking into his piercing blue eyes.

 

"Consulting detective." He said simply.

 

"Posh name." She mused. "So... In other words a private detective?"

 

"No, boring." Sherlock said and waved his hand. "I have clients, and I consort with Scotland Yard as they seem to always be in the depth. Basically I solve anything that interests me."

 

"So you... Have your pick of whatever you fancy?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. _Why does she keep doing that?_ Thought Sherlock. "Do you do it all on your own?"

 

"Of course I do. It's my brain that's important." He mused. "However I.. Well, sometimes have company. My friend Dr John Watson." He said and frowned when Molly's eyes lightened up.

 

"John Watson! The army fella based in London right?" She asked with a grin, making Sherlock frown even more. _How..? Oh God, tell me John didn’t copulate with her…_

 

"The very same. You know eachother?" He asked tentatively.

 

"Only slightly, mind. He married my friend Mary." she said with a hum. _Mary… why was this a relief? Wait a minute!_

 

"Your 'friend' Mary? Mary doesn't have many friends." Sherlock scoffed, making Molly laugh a bit.

 

"Why do you care if I know Mary or not?" She asked with a grin, a twinkle in her eye. "We met at a mutual friends wedding. That's when she was dating that weird guy, can't remember his name."

 

"Ah yes, the twitter stalker. I am aware. I had to warn him off." He said and took a sip of his tea, making Molly grin.

"That bad eh? The boyfriend knew my best friend Meena. Well I say best friend..." She trailed off. "Anyway, I met Mary there and she was so interested in my field. And nobody is _ever_ interested in my field. Dead people don’t really say ‘fun person’. But Mary did. Probably comes from her being a nurse." She mused. "It was really nice. I would've went to the wedding only…well..."

 

"You and 'Tom' were meant to go but his infidelity fell around the same time." Sherlock filled in with a nod.

 

"Right on the spot." She mused with a sigh before her eyes met his again. "I'd say you're pretty good at that detective stuff, so. But yeah, that's why I wasn't there. How is Mary?" She asked.

 

"Pregnant. Oh very pregnant." Sherlock said with a wince, making Molly giggle.

 

"Oh I must talk to her then! It’s been so very long… I’d love to wish her the best of luck with the little arrival." She mused with a fond smile, taking a sip of her tea before sitting back. She was a bit more relaxed now, it wasn’t so... Stagnant.

 

"So you must know Mary very well then?" She asked after a time, the two of them having drifted off in their own thoughts.

 

"To a point. I suppose you could call her part of my ‘surrogate’ family, as Mycroft likes to call them." He mused with a nod. _That was a bit private... Why did you just tell her that? Idiot!_

 

"Oh wow! Very close, then. You and John must go way back." She mused with a smile.

 

"To an extent. I met him when he returned home from Afghanistan." He told her. "We have been on many cases together. Although those have been more few and far between of late."

 

"Probably can't go chasing bad guys when there’s a baby on the way. Poor bloke."  


“Yes, ‘poor’ John indeed.” He mused with a sip of his coffee.

“Didn’t mean John.” Molly said with a slight cheeky smile.   


“You meant me? Why?” he asked, tilting his head. “I’m _fine_..”

 

“You seem to miss him.” She said in a gentle tone. _This was not good at all. What was she, a bloody psychic? Don’t be ridiculous, psychics are nothing but money grabbers taking advantage of stupid people. Don’t be an idiot._

 

“You’ve only just met me, what would you know.” He retorted with a roll of his eyes. “You should be taking my words as gospel.”  


“And why would I do that? As you said, I’ve only just met you…” she mused before checking her phone for the time. “I should get back, I have a lecture to do. Are you planning on staying in Glasgow long?” she asked as she stood up, putting her coat back on.

 

“No, I…well I hadn’t planned to stay this long.” He admitted.  


“Well, if you are around later you can give me a text or a call. I finish at five.” She mused cheerily as she put her scarf on. “Would you like my number?”

 

“I suppose that would be needed to text you, yes.” Sherlock texted back. “ _If_ I text you.”

 

Molly tried to hide her smirk. “of course, if.” She mused as he handed her his phone and she created a contact for herself. “Its completely your prerogative….there.” she said and locked the phone before giving it back. “I’ll see you later.. or not.” She mused and drained the last of her tea.   


And then she was gone, and Sherlock was just sitting there in her wake. He was completely dumbfounded, which was ridiculous. He shouldn’t be. She wasn’t that great was she? I mean.. she _was_ beautiful, but beauty was subjective. She was clearly intelligent, the top of her field. Was Mycroft right?

 

Sherlock looked down at his phone and, unlocking it to see the contact, the sight making him roll his eyes at the ridiculousness. It wasn’t endearing at all. Not at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, my photoshop skills are terrible hehe! Love all of you sooooo much! Spread love!
> 
> Love and cuddles and all things nice to you all! -katch xxxxx

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you'd like me to continue this!


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